


Not Without You

by AndreaDTX



Series: Breaking Tradition [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha rut, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Dirty Talk, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dominant Omega, Kissing, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bucky Barnes, Oral Sex, Recovery, Rimming, Scent Marking, Scenting, Sex Toys, Sexual Dysfunction, Sub Steve Rogers, Submissive Alpha, Top Steve Rogers, steve rogers is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 22:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18226244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaDTX/pseuds/AndreaDTX
Summary: Steve is willing to do anything to make sure nothing disturbs Bucky's recovery. But sometimes he's a little too self-sacrificing. This is the case when five months after bringing Bucky in, Steve is forced to come off of suppressants and allow his body to cycle through a natural rut. Despite his own struggles, Bucky is determined to remind his big-hearted alpha that Steve's needs are just as important to Bucky as Bucky's are to Steve





	Not Without You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Только с тобой](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19817530) by [Blacki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacki/pseuds/Blacki)



> Back when I wrote [Adapt and Overcome](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466290) which focused on how Steve and Bucky dealt with Bucky's heat in the face of his sexual PTSD post-HYDRA, I got a lot of messages asking me to follow up with a story about how they dealt with Steve's rut. Ask and you shall (eventually) receive...

Steve Rogers is a fuckin’ martyr. For most people, ‘throwing yourself on the grenade’ is a metaphor, but _nooo…_ not for Steve. When Bucky finally heard that apparently world-famous story, he’d glared long enough to make the pig-headed alpha squirm with discomfort. But even in the face of his Dom’s clear displeasure, Steve couldn’t quite scrape together any true remorse.

“That’s who I’ve been my whole life. I wouldn’t be me if I hadn’t,” he’d murmured stubbornly.

Bucky had sighed, letting it go because the punk was one hundred percent right. A Steve who could take the easy way out wouldn’t be his Stevie.

Still, Bucky refuses to let Steve fall on this particular grenade.

“I could try to let you mount me,” Bucky offers half-heartedly. He doesn’t really want it, but he could do it…

Beside him on the bed, Steve’s soaked in sweat, his skin flushed a ruddy red, his breathing choppy with discomfort. The overwhelming scent of Alpha rut engulfs their bedroom. In response, Bucky’s body is sending slick running down his thighs even as his mind fights between the innate urge to present like a good omega and the survival-evolved instinct to retreat to a more defensible position far from the visibly aroused and possibly aggressive alpha.

Steve sighs and flops a forearm over his eyes. “I appreciate the offer, but we’ve haven’t been able to do that even under the best of circumstances. If my knotting somehow triggered you…”

The resulting struggle could send Steve into rut haze. Despite being used as an excuse almost as often (and about as legitimately) as death by blue balls, rut haze actually _was_ possible, albeit extremely rare. The few documented cases occurred amongst ferals. Bucky vaguely remembers hearing whispered rumors about a guy in the walk-up one block over from where the Barnes family lived who came back feral from the Great War and accidentally smothered his omega while rutting with her. Poor guy hung himself when he realized what he’d done. Given how long it’s been since either he or Steve have properly cycled and how weak their bond has become due to extended separation and trauma, a feral reaction isn’t outside the realm of possibilities.

“Yeah... We definitely don’t want that,” Bucky acquiesces. "But I can help. I _want_ to help."

He settles on his haunches next to Steve, not quite close enough for inadvertent contact, but close enough for either of them to reach out and touch.

After a few more minutes of silent aggravation, Steve curses and pulls off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and tosses it onto the bed, sending a gust of woodsy pheromones directly at Bucky who whimpers then growls, torn between wanting to ferret the pheromone-steeped shirt away for future nesting material and wanting to shove Steve off the side of the bed. Only the Jiminy Cricket voice in the back of his head reminding him this was biology’s fault, not Steve’s, kept him from doing both.

This back and forth has been going for months, ever since Steve managed to find Bucky. They trigger each other’s cycles over and over as their bodies try unsuccessfully to synch back up after so much time apart. Normally, you’d only have one cycle every three months, but their super-serumed bodies have gone into hyperdrive, pushing one or the other into heat/rut roughly once a month, trying to make them renew their bond and procreate. Steve’s borne the brunt of it, four ruts to Bucky’s two heats. It sucks, but it could’ve been worse. The emergency suppressants, which the tattered remains of SHIELD’s medical department had whipped up for them after the regular suppressants proved barely more effective than sugar pills, cut the symptoms down from the usual duration to a few uncomfortable hours.

Now, medical is putting their foot down. Four doses is a year’s supply and Steve had burned through it in less than six months. Even as a super soldier, he needs to go off suppressants and let his body do what it naturally does. So, unlike Bucky, who will remain on suppressants until the shrinks deem him mentally stable enough to attempt a full heat without snapping and killing everyone in the immediate vicinity, Steve will have to go in for medical observation if he wants another dose. SHIELD may be willing to risk the Winter Soldier, but nobody wants to accidentally kill Captain America through medical negligence. Still, having so recently exposed and rooted out a HYDRA infiltration underneath the surface of what had once been Peggy’s beloved SSR, neither of them were particularly eager to be locked in and observed even if they’re mostly sure the remaining crew are loyal to SHIELD’s true founding cause. Instead, they decided to forego the suppressant and weather Steve’s first full rut since 1944 in the privacy of their own apartment.

“Is it okay if I take my pants off?” Steve asks, thumbs already hooked in the waistband of his pajamas.

“It’s your territory, pal.”

Steve’s lips pull into a mulish frown. “It’s _our_ territory.”

Bucky sighs. Trust Steve to get into an argument even when he’s half out of it. “Fine. But right now, it’s _your_ den. Whatever you need to feel comfortable is fine by me.”

That seems to be enough for Steve who pulls the blue plaid bottoms and accompanying boxer briefs down and off in one fell swoop. Bucky, who up to this point has only been wearing a pair of loose shorts, follows suit. He might not be ready for any type of penetration, but the fooling around they’ve done up to this point has proven that he responds really well to skin-to skin contact and he plans to use that to their advantage. The nights were Steve palmed both his and Bucky’s cock in one big, strong hand and strokes them both to completion… Bucky shivers with pleasure just thinking about it.

Now nude, Steve reclines fully on the bed. Bucky’s eyes roam freely and greedily over the body spread out before him, the tight, toned curves, his for the asking. He inhales deeply and barely stifles a moan. Steve’s rut scent is much stronger now that the scent glands at his groin are uncovered. Steve’s hand slides down to palm his own turgid shaft, the flesh hard and throbbing with unsatiated desire. He uses rough, rapid strokes to move the skin up and down, his hips slowly starting to hitch as the sensation builds. Bucky watches, fixated, and sees the moment when what had initially been relief turns into frustration as the touch fails to give Steve the stimulation he actually needs.

“Let me try?” Bucky asks almost shyly.

Steve looks over at the sound of Bucky’s voice. His eyes are a little glassy and he nods, his hand letting go, sliding up and over his stomach, up to swipe idly at the sharp points of his nipples.

Bucky takes Steve in hand, greeted with a sharp gasp. He strokes Steve’s shaft, the hind part of his brain gleeful at the feel of hard cock in his hand, the throbbing pulse as Steve somehow grows even harder, the roll of his hips coming a little faster. Bucky plays around for a few moments, considering how he can make this better than what Steve was already doing on his own. He bends and takes the tip of Steve’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck…” Steve groans.  

Curled over Steve’s body, Bucky revels in every moan and every hiss. He loves playing with Steve like this. It makes him feel so powerful, knowing that every ounce of pleasure Steve is feeling is solely because Bucky has granted it. He wants to do more, to take Steve deeper, make him beg and cry out, but he can’t from this angle, perpendicular to Steve’s torso. The thought barely has time to cross his mind before he’s floating in the air. Or rather, Steve picks him up bodily and settles him so he’s straddling Steve’s torso. Bucky pulls back, nearly all the way away from Steve, his hard cock just barely resting on the pillow of Bucky’s bottom lip as the omega takes a second to re-orient. He tenses and a trickle of uneasy vulnerability skitters down his spine as he realizes this position puts his ass directly in Steve’s face.

“It’s okay,” Steve murmurs, his voice raspy with desire. “We’ll make each other feel good. Can I? Please?”

Bucky knows what Steve’s asking for even if he doesn’t put a name to it. He pauses, checking just like the shrinks told him, to see if this is something he’s considering because _he_ wants it or because he knows Steve wants it. Soft memories of how good this used to feel has him nodding even as he sinks his mouth down onto Steve’s cock.

The first touch of a tongue to his rim has him moaning around the hard shaft in his mouth which in turn makes Steve growl with pleasure. It becomes a feedback loop, each one of them trying to find the best way to pull those desperate sounds from the other. Steve doesn’t hold back, licking, probing, sucking like it’s his birthday and this was the only gift he wanted. Bucky returns the effort in kind.

Finally, Steve gives in and lifts his head.

“Buck, I’m almost… I’m gonna…” he warns, his voice shaking.

Bucky doesn’t pull away. He keeps sucking, all the while spreading his legs a bit more to better grind his own aching cock against Steve’s chest. He keeps going until it feels almost unbearable and he’s moaning and sucking and grinding wildly, the bright burn of impending release tightening his muscles pulling him towards completion, edged on by Steve who has returned to licking Bucky with long, laving strokes of his warm, freakishly talented tongue even as he pumps into Bucky's mouth reaching for his own pleasure.

Steve beats him by seconds, muffling what would have been a mighty Alpha growl. The hot spurt of bitter fluids into Bucky’s mouth sends him over the edge. He swallows then grinds down harder and spills his own load onto Steve’s skin.

When he finally comes down, he collapses, resting his head on Steve’s thigh. He suckles Steve softly as they both twitch through aftershocks, but finally pulls off when he realizes Steve isn’t softening. He’d definitely cum but his knot is still stubbornly hidden inside the base of his penis.

Bucky shifts awkwardly, flipping around so they can be face to face. Despite orgasming not even a full minute ago, Steve somehow manages to look even more wound up than before.

“It felt good, _really_ good, but not enough to… ya know,” Steve says, answering Bucky’s unvoiced question.

“How about if I’m on top?” Bucky asks softly. “Like we used to do sometimes.”

Steve shook his head miserably. “I don’t have to… I need… I need to…”

He growls and pounds a fist against the mattress, startling Bucky.

“Fuck! Sorry. Can’t even think for how bad I need to rut…”

He takes a deep breath, then another. “I don’t need to mount you, but I gotta control the thrusting to satisfy the rut urge. Can’t with you on top of me.”

Steve sighs then grimaces as he resumes stroking himself, paying particular attention to the skin at the base of his cock.

Bucky lays there for another five or so minutes listening to Steve struggle before an idea hits him.

“We're a couple of idiots. Where’s your rut sleeve?”

“My rut sleeve?” Steve parrots back.

Bucky sits up. “Hey, focus. I know you’ve got knot brain, but this is important. When SHIELD was making sure you had everything you needed for the brave, new world, they had to have given you some kind of rut aid.”

Steve blinks slowly like he’s still trying to process Bucky’s words. Bucky can actually see the moment his hormone-addled brain catches up.

“Actually, yeah. I think…”

He rolls to his side and pulls open the bottom drawer of his night stand. After a few moments of rooting around, he emerges victorious, holding his prize above his head.

It’s a top of the line rut sleeve still in the fancy plastic packaging.

Bucky takes it from him, glances quickly at all the advertised features on the insert, then attacks the packaging with his metal hand. “You didn't even open it?”

Steve shrugs indifferently. “I thought you were gone and nobody else triggered my cycle. Didn’t hold much appeal to me for day-to-day use.”

Once he’s pried the toy from its packaging, Bucky slides from the bed and pads over to the bathroom where he gives the silicone toy a thorough rinsing.

“I wonder which SHIELD nerd got to order a rut sleeve for Captain America,” Bucky muses aloud as he heads back to the bed, stopping only to search the nightstand for lube.

“Probably Coulson.”

“Who’s that?” he asks as he climbs back into bed.

“Guy who used to work for SHIELD. Nice but weird.”

Bucky hums and then settles on his back.

“What’s the plan?” Steve asks.

“I’ll lay on my back and hold the sleeve here,” Bucky answers, motioning towards his stomach. “You settle in and rut it out missionary style. It’ll satisfy your thrust urge and you can knot without worrying about triggering me.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you,” Steve says, concern tinging his voice, even as he shuffles on his knees towards Bucky.

“Very gentlemanly of you, but I volunteered 'cause I’m okay with it,” Bucky points out as he pours lube into the sleeve before settling the tube flat against his stomach near where his own cock lies against his lower belly, chubby but not yet recovered from the last round.

“Plus, this’ll get me all the skin-to-skin contact and scent marking I can handle. Win-win,” he throws in, knowing it'll be harder for Steve to resist if he frames it like they're really doing this for him rather than Steve.

Steve hesitates for only another moment or so before climbing between Bucky’s legs. He grips himself, lines up, and pushes into the sleeve.

“Oh…” Steve moans, making Bucky flush with how dirty his voice sounds. After a few experimental thrusts, he starts to really get into it, finally getting the combination of friction, tightness, and wetness he needs. Steve’s thrusts get so forceful Bucky has to push down hard to keep the tube in place.

Steve balances on his forearms, draped over Bucky, kissing him, mouthing at Bucky’s scent gland as Steve he fucks into his toy. When he looks up, his face is pure bliss… Bucky has a brief moment where he’s inexplicably jealous of the toy wishing it was him Steve was plowing, then nearly laughs at himself when he snaps out of it, remembering that the toy is only here at Bucky’s suggestion because he didn’t feel ready yet. Someday soon, though, they wouldn’t need it…

Bucky rubs his wrists up Steve’s back, over the scent glands in his neck, his cheeks, threads his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulling his head back, forcing Steve to look into his eyes as he fucks. The sleeve gives an obscene, sucking noise every time Steve pulls out and Steve responds with a filthy, cursing groan every time he pushes back in.

“Look at you,” Bucky murmurs, his Brooklyn accent slipping back into place. “So pretty. Does it feel good, squeezin’ that hot cock of yours?”

Steve’s eyes roll a bit but he manages to nod.

“But not as good as me, I bet. I remember, ya know. Lettin’ you fuck me. You tryin’ to be a good boy, hopin’ I’d let you cum.”

Steve moans, tries to bury his face in Bucky’s neck. But Bucky’s not having it. He gives a sharp tug to Steve’s hair, forcing him to look up. “I remember ridin’ you for hours, takin’ you to the edge over and over, makin’ you beg for it, then tellin’ you no. Makin’ you wait until you were shakin’ you were so desperate for it.”

Steve whimpers, his hips speeding up, the pheromones getting thicker.

“You always looked so perfect, beggin’ me with those big, blue eyes, almost ready to cry. ‘Please, sir. I need to cum. Please, let me knot you.’ But now you don’t ask me no more…”

Steve freezes, his hips slow to a stop. For one heartbeat, then another, there’s not a single sound. Then…

“Please, Sir. Let me knot you. I need it. Please…”

Bucky growls ‘do it’ then grabs Steve’s face and pulls him into a vicious kiss as the rhythm picks up to a jack hammer pace that quickly sets off Bucky’s own release from the friction of his cock being wedged between Steve, his own body, and the slick silicone. Five, maybe ten more thrusts and Steve’s body locks up for a brief moment before he growls and twitches, then starts thrusting at a slower, more languid pace.

Finally, his heavy body collapses on to Bucky.

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, burying his nose into Steve’s neck, into the scent glands there, to remind himself that the weight pinning him down is Steve. This is safety. He’s perfectly fine.

“Yeah,” Steve slurs back, his hips still rolling minutely as he shivers through the last dregs of pleasure. His scent is inundated with happiness and contentment.

Eventually, they both settle and drowsiness starts to pull at them both. In a little while, whenever Steve’s knot releases, Bucky’ll get up. Both his omega side and his Dom side are itching to pamper his mate. He’ll go get some fruit, some water, some of that chocolate Steve keeps in the freezer because he says it tastes better that way. He’ll get some fresh sheets and rinse out the sleeve that they’re going to need a least a few more times before this is all over. They’ll make it through this rut and Steve will be allowed to go back on suppressants for a few more months. Hopefully, by the time he’s ordered back off, Bucky will be cleared to cycle with him.

But for now, he doesn’t worry about it. Instead, he rests, marking his Alpha with his scent, letting Steve do the same in return, reveling in the fact that neither of them has to go through this alone. The promises they made to each other nearly a century ago still hold true. 

 

_Just go! Get out of here!_

_No! Not without you!_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! And if you're curious, a rut sleeve basically looks like a fleshlight.


End file.
